


too close to god

by breaktrio



Series: Tales of Blood [4]
Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Devotion, Gen, Inazuma Fantasy Week, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Previous Injuries, discussion of gods and theology and religion, hinted fusaku, hinted gensaku, knight sakuma, prompt knight / gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breaktrio/pseuds/breaktrio
Summary: (day 5 of inazuma eleven fantasy week / prompt knight or gods)Sakuma is used to serve.
Series: Tales of Blood [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103825
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	too close to god

**Author's Note:**

> day 5  
> had a mental breakdown studied 10 hours never reread this enjoy

When he was little, his father taught him how to pray, how to cherish, how to be thankful and how to love the Gods because  _ we are alive thanks to them, son _ . 

Then the Gods burned his entire village and he didn’t pray, he didn’t cherish, he wasn’t thankful and he didn’t love them anymore. He still remembers them, winged being with hair made of light and eyes made of fire. 

His family died that day, along with Jirou’s beliefs and trust in their Gods. 

His father used to say that humans and Gods aren’t alike, that Gods have a plan for them and sometimes their plans involve pain and tears and death,  _ you have to trust them, Jirou, even in the darkest hour of your life _ . 

Jirou couldn’t do it, his faith not strong as his father’s. 

As the only survivor, he had to live for them too, even when he didn’t want to. He made bad decisions that cost him an eye and scars all over his body. Jirou cried himself to sleep every night as the sea lulled him as the memories and hallucinations made impossible for him to close his eyes for just a minute or two, and the insomnia didn’t match a life at sea, Akio used to say, sneaky smile hiding his worry. 

Jirou touches his eyepatch, fingers against black leather, phantom pain still present when he thinks about that part of his life and everything before that. And these days, it’s all he can think of, after arresting his ex crew members, Akio of course not shutting his mouth. The other guards started to whisper, making assumptions on Jirou and his past, his eye and the scar that goes from his neck to his hip. He never talked, he never gave them an explanation, he never denied, but when the King Regent asked him about the Oumihara’s crew, only then, Jirou opened his mouth. King Regent thanked him. 

They never spoke about it again. 

Jirou isn’t proud of his past, but he doesn’t regret it either. The search for treasures, living the life without following rules made what Jirou is now, a  _ follower. _ The Oumihara and its Captain, along with its Quartermaster, promised a life without Gods, without depending from someone else's, and Jirou thought that was what he wanted. Being free, being able to enjoy his life the way he wanted, not the way his Gods believed he should have. 

Oumihara couldn’t protect him, though, not from himself and from his desire for revenge. This is what he was trying to escape, if he has to be honest with himself, that bloodthirst in the back of his mind that made him join a couple of strangers, became his best friends and later his enemies, and then the only ones who could save his loved kingdom. Revenge was what really made him rise every morning from his bed, a warm body next to his that wasn’t enough to make him happy. 

He wanted to kill the Gods. What a funny thought, now, thinking about killing a God, with his cutlass, stolen from a dead body on his first real battle with another pirate ship, but he wanted to do it. 

And then he reached the Kingdom of the Gods, just for luck, Akio screaming not to leave, that they were in dangerous waters and they were there by mistake, not a inch of his skill of persuasion on his tongue, and Jirou didn’t listen as Tsunami ordered him to stay put. He jumped into the sea, cold water against his skin, almost drowning, almost losing consciousness

He made a choice that cost him more than an eye as he met them, the God that attacked his village when he was young and the other God too angry to stop them. 

Jirou screamed, yelled, cried, and the God didn’t move from their throne, a bored expression on their features, orange eyes focused on Jirou just for a few minutes. 

“Are you our Champion?” they asked.

Jirou didn’t understand the question. 

“Don’t you see, Terumi? This one doesn’t even know where he is,” another voice came from everywhere. 

Jirou wanted to reply, to say he knew where he was. 

“And I suppose, he doesn’t know the consequences of being here,” Terumi said.

A laugh making Jirou’s bones shake, “Clearly, he can’t face God without giving us something. Start choosing, pirate.”

He remembers only much, after waking up in a bed in a house not familiar, darkness surrounding him, pain striking his body every time he moved, breathed. 

“You should go back to sleep,” someone said to him, hand on his forehead, “You have an infection.”

Jirou didn’t fight them. 

When he found in himself the strength to stand up, several days had passed. The house was located in the middle of a wheat field, the sun shining on the yellow camps. 

“You are awake,” seated at the table in the middle of the room, there was a man, scars on his face and dark blue eyes fixed on Jirou. 

“Where I am?” 

“At my house, found you on the beach, a couple of weeks ago,” he explained as he raised a pink, stopping to drink slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

Jirou had to hold himself against the wall, “I… was... “

“The Kingdom of the Gods,” he said for Jirou, “Usually, they kill everyone who sets foot on their land. Except you, it seems.”

Jirou touched his neck, bandages fresh against his skin, “I had to choose.”

“What did you choose?”

Jirou’s hand found the one bandage on his face, the one who made the darkness ever present in the past days, now just on one eye, “To serve them.”

  
  


“What’s on your mind, Chief?” Lord Advisor asks, bringing back Jirou.

Jirou raises his head. Lord Advisor is buried by books and papers, his hands stained by ink, his red eyes bloodshot, and he looks so tired, and ready to give up, but he doesn’t, just because King Regent asked him not to. 

“My Gods, my Lord,” Jirou replies.

“You are very religious, Chief,” Yuuto comments. 

“I serve them as I serve you, my Lord.”


End file.
